


Renewed Hope

by andveryginger, Keldae



Series: Deja New [11]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Double Agents, Established Relationship, F/M, Jedi Mindtricks, RPverse, Spies & Secret Agents, non-canon backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andveryginger/pseuds/andveryginger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keldae/pseuds/Keldae
Summary: In her meditation, Mairen senses something that offers a glimmer of hope for Clan Taerich.





	Renewed Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing story of The Incident, penned by myself and Keldae. Posted sans beta, though it's been on simmer since June of last year. Any mistakes you see now are probably my fault, as I missed them in my (too often) repeated editing.

**_The Shadow  
_ Strabin Sector  
** _3638 BBY | 15 ATC_

 

Mairen Bel Iblis glanced at the time, red numbers glowing softly in the darkness of the cabin, and gave a soft sigh. It was just before five in the morning. After another long day compiling data and studying the duty rosters for the secured facility, she and Reanden had eaten a light supper and crawled into bed sometime before eleven. Sleep had been fairly elusive for both. They tossed, turned, and conversed in quiet tones as they lay curled together. Still, the steady rise and fall of his shoulders now told her that her favorite spy was finally resting, and she was loathe to disturb him. His own internal alarm would do that, anyway, sometime in the next hour.

Easing back the covers, she slipped from the bed even as she reached for the silken robe that hung on the a side hook of the wardrobe. She swung it around her like a cape and shoved her arms through the fluttering sleeves even as she stepped through into the passageway. The sash was tied before she reached the central lounge.

Her eyes drifted over the room, taking in the familiar lines, fingers trailing absently over the holoterminal. It had been in this very compartment, not so long ago, that she began tutoring Sorand Taerich in Jedi meditation techniques. He had been so happy, so _relieved_ to learn such cerebral control over his abilities; to learn how to reach into the light, rather than the dark. It was grasping a tie, however tenuous, to his mother, one he always believed lost. She remembered well the hope that swelled within him, flooding the fledgling bond between them.

Standing there now, eyes fixed on the spot where Sorand last knelt, Mairen felt a knot rise to her throat. His presence lingered here, memories echoing harshly off the wood paneling, off the polished decking, and plush carpet. Grief -- so prevalent these passing months as it rippled through her, radiated from Reanden -- threatened to overwhelm her, eyes stinging with unshed tears. It seemed impossible that he would never return. It was as though he might appear around the corner at any moment, ready to resume his training.

Mairen swallowed, eyes closing as she drew a deep breath. She leaned heavily against the holoterminal, reaching into the Force as she sought to dissipate the shadows grasping at her essence.   _Emotion, yet peace_ , she thought. _Emotion...yet peace._ _Emotion…_

And then she felt it: the ripple of familiarity as the training bond that should be dormant fluttered to life. Panic, then confusion washed over her as the grey ribbon of light she recognized as Sorand Taerich reached for her. Her mind flashed with images, her body reeling as though adrift at sea. She tightened her grip on the holoterminal, knuckles fading white. _Sorand?_

_Mum?_

It was a whisper in a tin, echoing across a great distance, but it was _there_ . Mairen felt the shadows fall away, her heart swelling as tears spilled down her cheek. Her grip on the terminal tightened further as her knees sagged. Sorand was alive! _Shh,_ she thought, even as she struggled to extend her focus. She tried to soothe him, to help filter his panic and fear. _It’s all right. You’re all right._

Images flashed again: Firelight flickering on stone. The unmistakable glow of Force lightning. A wiry figure capped with blonde hair. A medical droid peering through the distortion of a kolto tank. Pain -- or a memory of it -- soared down her arms, her legs, tingling in her fingers and her toes. _Hurts_ , he whispered. She could feel the fear that lingered, darkness flickering along his signature. _Home. Want to come home._

_Oh, Sorand_ . Her heart deflated. _Not safe_ , she thought. _So very not safe._ She _felt_ the whimper that seemed to flutter between them at that. _You safe now?_

_For now_ , his mind whispered _._ There was a resigned note to his essence, one that made her heart ache. _Stay with you?_

Swallowing, Mairen nodded. _Of course_ , she responded. She drew on her memories, projecting an image of the two of them, meditating just across the compartment, only weeks ago. _Always._

There was a pause, and then the connection softened as his fear and confusion dissipated; his pain lingered, but was blunted. Wherever he was, the medical droids had put him back to sleep, likely to allow the kolto to do the job.

Her eyes fluttered open. Wincing against the sudden brightness of the interior lighting, she reached for the controls and dimmed it further as she straightened. Warmth began to swell within her, a soft smile touching the corner of her lips. Sorand was alive!

* * *

Reanden hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in… weeks. His nights since the news of his children’s deaths or imprisonments had been plagued with nightmares, and he hadn’t yet decided what was the worst one yet: Aryn being ripped away from him by her siblings’ murderers, the bodiless sounds of his sons crying out in pain, a too-vivid imagination of what Xaja had to be suffering in captivity (some days, he really hated his job and all the knowledge that went with it), Mairen being struck down in front of him…

Although Airna’s body, still the same as he remembered seeing after her murder, rising from the ground and accusing him of killing their children, her eyes glowing a corrupted yellow that she had never worn in life, ranked as one of the particularly awful ones.

The old spy grunted as he rolled over in bed, one arm habitually falling to the other side to check on his bedmate. The cool, unoccupied sheets made him wake up with a jolt of fear. Mairen was gone, no, no, he couldn’t lose her too, not after all of this--

_You idiot,_ Reanden scolded himself as he sat up and raked his hands through his hair. _You’re in the middle of kriffing space and you would have woken up if there had been a docking or an escape pod being used. Mairen’s not gone, she’s just… meditating? Or something._ Even his mental scolding didn’t do anything to ease the nauseous cramping in his stomach, or the fear that still lingered in his heart. Kriffing hells, he’d become a walking mass of anxiety and grief ever since losing what remained of his family…

He groaned as he got to his feet and stepped outside the cabin into the main area of the ship, and couldn’t stop a sigh of relief when he saw Mairen all but clinging to the holoterminal, tears glistening off her pale cheeks. She’d had no connection to Xaja or Korin, but Sorand had been her unofficial Padawan…

Then why in the blazes was there a smile on her lips? “Mai?” he hoarsely asked, forehead creasing in confusion.

Hearing her name in the low, hoarse voice she gave a start, swiping hastily at her cheeks. “I’m sorry, love,” she replied. Her own voice was quiet, heavily laden with emotion. “I didn’t wake you, I hope?”

He wearily shook his head as he made his way over to her, instinctively wrapping his arms around her as though to reassure himself that yes, she was perfectly fine, and wasn’t in immediate danger of being ripped from his arms like -- He shook his head abruptly and rested his too-heavy head against her hair, ignoring how the ship seemed to tilt with the motion. _It’s the sleep deprivation, you idiot,_ some dry part of his mind identified. Better a headache and feeling sick than seeing those nightmares again, though. They hadn’t even been this bad when he lost Airna…

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered in response to her question. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same,” she said, her arms slipping over his shoulders. Her fingers carded through silver strands and she revelled in the warmth of his body against hers. “I came out to meditate and…” She stilled her fingers in his hair, smoothing her hand over the nape of his neck. “I made quite a discovery.”

A frown creased his worn face at her words, and how her fingers stopped moving through their soothing motions in his hair. “What discovery is this?” he lowly asked, his eyes darting toward the holoterminal. Had new intel on the prison facility come in that he’d missed?

“I think…” Drawing a deep breath, Mairen pulled back, her eyes searching his. She could see the crease in his forehead, the concern in his eyes; she thought she could even feel the concern that rippled through him.  “Masters and padawans usually develop a bond -- a training bond,” she explained. “It allows them to communicate beyond words, using images, thoughts, and other impressions, like emotion. Sorand and I… we seem to have developed something like it.”

Okay… the idea of a training bond was something he knew of. Airna had explained it to him while talking about her Jedi childhood with him years ago, and then Sorand himself had mentioned that he could feel Mairen in his mind, while he (thankfully) had had no connection to his uncle. The passing of impressions and images and --

He started, wondering if his lack of sleep had made him mishear Mairen’s words. “What do you mean, you ‘seem to have developed’ that?” Why was she talking as though in the present tense? Sorand was gone, out of his or her reach forever, and he wasn’t getting his son back…

“He survived, Reanden,” she replied. Hope swelled within her again, the slight smile curving her lips. She gave a sharp exhale as excitement crept into her voice. “Reached out to me while I was meditating. He’s alive!”

He was definitely sleep deprived, if he was hearing those words come out of her mouth. Or she was, if she was imagining this. Reanden stared unblinkingly at Mairen for a long moment, trying to comprehend what the hell she’d just said. No, he’d heard her words correctly… but they couldn’t be right. He had seen the reports of Vi’garion and Xalia, and knew those two were nothing but… thorough in their terrible deeds. And if Sorand had survived, wouldn’t he have tried to contact his father sooner than now?

A tiny ember of hope tried to stir in his heart. Perhaps if Mairen was right and Sorand was alive, perhaps Korin was all right too? _No._ He scowled, ruthlessly stomped out the thought. It was impossible. Sorand, for all his skill with the Force, had been just a teenager when he was murdered. He couldn’t have survived it. The Force, or destiny, or whatever the kriff one wanted to call it, wouldn’t be so merciful to him as to give one of his sons back. This was just trying to give him false hope before crushing him utterly. Hadn’t he been broken enough already?! “It’s not possible, Mai,” he wearily said, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see that hopeful, ecstatic smile that promised to play havoc with what remained of his heart. “I don’t know what you felt or saw, but it couldn’t have been him. Sorand’s… he’s gone.”

“I know how this sounds, love,” Mairen began slowly, “but I’m not crazy.” She hooked her index finger under his jaw, drawing his chin gently upward until he opened his eyes and looked at her. The weariness that had been his constant companion still haunted his gaze, and she felt a flutter in her chest at the recognition. “I wouldn’t do this to you if I didn’t think --”

Stopping, she pursed her lips, placing the palm of her hand against his cheek. Her thumb gently traced an arc. There was determination in her eyes, the set of her jaw. “Do you trust me?”

“Mai, please,” Reanden whispered as she made him look at her. The spark in her eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw, the press of her lips together almost made him wonder if she was serious. “Don’t do this to me. I can’t…” His throat clenched, and he had to swallow hard to get words out again. “I wish I could believe you, but…” He slumped in her arms, broken and defeated by grief, and desperately trying to hide from any sort of false hope. “It’s hopeless. I do trust you, but… dammit, don’t try to give me hope where there is none.”

The Corellian drew a deep breath, even as he dropped his head. She brought her forehead to rest against his, her fingers once again raking through his hair. “Close your eyes.”

She wasn’t going to let this go. His wise, clever, damned smart Jedi spy was utterly convinced of her delusion that her Padawan -- his son -- had somehow survived. Reanden considered pulling away from her, shutting what remained of his heart away from her and her words -- but the _Shadow_ wasn’t a big ship, and she wouldn’t forgive that insult easily. He sighed and decided to humour her, steeling himself against whatever Force-things she wanted to show him. _It’s impossible,_ he repeated to himself as a guard against the hope she tried to kindle within him. _He’s gone. Your son is gone. She’s exhausted and hallucinating. Just go along with it for now._

Pursing her lips, Mairen combed her fingers through his hair one last time, her hands coming to rest just at the curve of his neck into his shoulders. The contact, skin-against-skin, would -- theoretically -- make this easier. _It’d be easier if we had a bond, but…_ Inwardly, she shook the thought away. She had to work with what they had now.

What they had now, however, was Reanden steeling himself against hope -- against _her_ . She smoothed her hand over his head. “Darling, I need you to relax, or this is _not_ going to work.”

Blasted woman. Reanden heavily sighed and shook his head against her forehead. “You’re kriffing serious,” he mumbled. “You honestly believe…” He couldn’t let himself say the words. Denial hurt less than shattered hope. But would Mairen drag him up like this, only to strike him down again? Never intentionally… _but she probably hasn’t had much more sleep than you have._ Did Jedi get sleep-deprivation hallucinations? He couldn’t remember if Airna had… mostly because Airna could fall asleep virtually anywhere with little fuss. And how he’d envied her for that ability.

Was this worth the fight? Probably not, not when Mairen would never let him forget it, or forgive him if he kept resisting. He sighed again and felt himself give up. He could keep a distant, analytical mind about this without risking his heart, right?

His feet shuffled before hers, shoulders shifting slightly as he willed himself to relax. She felt the tension in her own shoulders ease and she trailed her fingers over the nape of his neck affectionately before settling back in. She then closed her own eyes, allowing her focus to drift back to the tendrils swirling around her.

It took less than a second to recognize his signature, the taut, silver-grey coil that drifted so closely to hers. Thin though it might be, it shone brightly at the moment, almost reaching for her. A smile flickered across her lips. She danced along the coil, finding it surprisingly easy to slip into his thoughts. Pain echoed through the darkness there, her own light like a beacon. Carefully, she drew him out, almost as though she were opening a curtain, revealing to him the bright, twirling thread that was her own signature… and the bright grey twine that reached for her in the aether.

Kriffing hells. Growing up Force-blind, the few instances where he’d been able to second-hand sense the seemingly-limitless powers of the Jedi never failed to make him disoriented and off-balance. Mairen felt like a burst of bright sunlight in the clouds of his dark, haunted thoughts, enough to make him wince despite the warmth she brought to his cold spirit. For a moment, he allowed himself to marvel that she could hide her brightness in Dromund Kaas’ shadows without sticking out like a beacon.

But then she was drawing him in, and he felt himself being pulled along despite his misgivings. He could see the grey thread in the swirling clouds of the Force, sticking out of the darkness like a fine line of dim light that flickered, not unlike a weak candle flame. He hesitantly reached for the thread, then drew back, suddenly terrified of what it could mean, or of how badly his heart was about to be shattered into --

The thread brushed against him as if drawn, and Reanden audibly gasped. He had felt that exact nudge for seventeen years, from the first moment that he’d held his youngest son as a newborn and felt a clumsy smack against his mental shields from the curious Force-sensitive baby. Sorand and Korin had both grown up knowing their father’s Force-signature, and being permitted to nudge against him mentally as long as they didn’t try to intrude into his thoughts -- it had been enough for him to become familiar with both of the boys’ presences. He _knew_ the owner of that thread currently brushing him now. “Sorand…” he brokenly whispered, unheeding of the tears streaming over stubble-clad cheeks. Hope stirred in his chest, finally able to catch a flame like he’d tried to resist.

Sorand’s Force-presence weakly tried to wrap around Reanden’s, before fading back and being caught by Mairen’s stronger signature. It was enough for the old spy to get a very faint impression of pain, and of lingering anxiety. _Oh, son_ , he thought as his heart cried for the teenager. _What the hells happened to you?_

“I don’t know what happened,” Mairen replied quietly. He could feel her joy, intermingled with the anguish at his pain, worry about Sorand tugging at her. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks, drawing away the tears. “He’s being tended -- I saw droids and kolto, and he seems to have been given something to help him sleep -- but he says he feels safe for now.”

He blinked -- had he spoken out loud? Or had Mairen just mentally heard his silent cry for his son? That wasn’t important now though -- Sorand was alive, and safe for the moment, and in someone’s care. He suddenly frowned. How the kriff… “Do you know if anyone’s with him?” he softly asked as he strained to reach for Sorand’s thread again, feeling the boy’s mind brush him. Yes, he knew that fuzzy feeling of unconsciousness. Sorand wouldn’t be consciously reaching back for him tonight. But maybe he would subconsciously know his dad was there, if distant and far away?

Mairen shook her head, the movement only slight, as she maintained their connection. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I had a brief impression of another man -- wiry, blond. Someone hovering just outside the tank; someone Sorand trusts. I didn’t recognize him, but there was something familiar in his presence.”

Reanden frowned at that as he tried to filter through who his son’s unknown protector was. Someone vaguely familiar to Mairen who Sorand trusted… Je’ka Cuyot? No, he decided -- the Mandalorian would have no reason to make himself known to Lord Bel Iblis. Corey Black? No, that Mandalorian’s hair was auburn, not blond, and he was built like a kriffing tank. How many others were there in the same circles that Mairen and Sorand shared who would have Sorand’s trust? “Are you… can you show me?” he softly asked.

“I…” She furrowed her brow. She was only now beginning to feel the strain of channelling both his focus and her own, a fact that had surprised her. Perhaps it was possible to share the images she’d seen? Drawing a deep breath, Mairen pushed into her own memories, slogging past the pain and worry and grief that threatened to overwhelm her only a short time before. She called forward the impressions that had followed -- namely that of the blond man hovering impatiently outside the hazy filter of kolto.

The confused frown deepened as he caught a glimpse of the blond-haired figure waiting for Sorand in whatever medical centre they were in. No, that wasn’t Cuyot -- this man was too young, not nearly as scarred as the Mandalorian, too… too much like him. “Korin?” he whispered, focusing on the hazy memory of the man. A glimmer of exhausted grey-hazel eyes… an unhealthy amount of unkempt blond scruff on his cheeks… an anxious, downward turn to his lips that Reanden had seen in a mirror far too many times.

Sorand had survived whatever horror Vi’garion and Xalia had caused. And if he had lived, it stood to reason that Korin had survived too, perhaps had been the one to get his brother to medical help. And when Sorand couldn’t have his parents or his Master, who else would he turn to but his big brother? Korin had always had a protective instinct a parsec wide where his little brother was concerned. Reanden had no idea how the brothers had reunited after Korin fled ahead of the Sith Academy recruiters and his uncle’s wrath, or how Xaja had gotten tangled up with her brothers -- but they had, and the boys were alive and safe, and… blast it, just when he’d thought he’d run out of tears to shed for his family, hope brought more forward. He buried his face in Mairen’s neck, feeling himself shaking as the grief and pain of the last weeks eased. His boys were alive…

Connected as they were, Mairen felt his relief as her own, grief and pain pouring out of him with his tears even as hope truly kindled within him. Her arms tightened around him, drawing him ever closer. “Shh,” she whispered, hand smoothing through his hair. “It’s all right, love. They’re alive. And Xaja will be, too.”

Reanden couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt hope like this, a feeling so wild and overwhelming that it stole his breath away, made his chest feel the lightest it had been in far too long. “My kids…” he whispered as he clung to the lingering impression that Sorand had left on his mind, to the hazy memory of Korin guarding his little brother’s kolto tank. “Stars, my boys…”

But not even his joy was enough to make his mind shut up. If that was Korin with Sorand… the boys were smart, smart enough to know that Imperial Space was no longer safe for Sorand to be. He hadn’t seen Korin in years, but if the brothers’ relationship was anything like it had been when they were children, Korin would be a hovering, over-protective bodyguard for his brother. And he knew Korin had friends and allies in Republic Space. They could hide in Republic territory, far away from the Empire that Reanden had never wanted his kids to be a part of. And when they freed Xaja, she could be sent to reunite with her brothers --

_You need to get her out of there alive first,_ muttered a little voice in his mind. _And if you don’t hurry, you will lose her like you almost lost them._ That was enough to make him straighten up, brushing his sleeve over his eyes and taking a shaky breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I doubted you, Mai….”

Mairen shook her head. “ _I_ doubted me, Reanden,” she said with a chuckle. She traced a finger across his cheek, wiping away more of the moisture. “But thank you for trusting me. I know it can’t come easy for you.”

Blast it. It was like she knew him better than he knew himself. Trust issues, one of his handlers had once joked, had to have been his middle name. But Mairen had more than earned his trust… stars, was he grateful that he had. A little word, one little sentence, lingered on the tip of his tongue, wanting to be said, even though it had been almost a decade since he had said those three words to anyone not his children…

_Time and place_ , he thought, _and this is neither_. They still had a delicate op to plan to rescue his daughter from the clutches of two of the Empire’s cruelest Sith. Still, Reanden stooped and kissed Mairen, feeling some of the tension in his back and shoulders melt out of his muscles. “I can’t thank you enough…”

Her green-hazel eyes traced his features, fingernails curling through the hair at the nape of his neck. If she could feel the unspoken words bubbling beneath the surface, she didn’t show it. Instead, she allowed a fresh warmth to her gaze, a teasing hint to her syllables as she spoke. “I can think of a few ways you could _try_ …”

The first smile he’d felt in weeks slowly spread across his lips as he curled his hands around her waist. “I _suppose_ I can make an effort,” he lowly murmured, nuzzling her cheek and neck with his lips as he started walking her back toward his cabin. His galaxy wasn’t quite right yet, but it was parsecs better than it had been. _Sorand… Korin… I love you two. Dad’s going to protect you from Imp Space, whatever it takes. I promise._

Pushing forward onto her toes, Mairen teased her lips across his jaw as they once again closed the gap between them. She could feel the slight shift in his mood, in his shoulders. Her eyes sparked with understanding. “Later,” she whispered. “Planning will resume later. For now… let’s hope.” She gave a soft smile, nudging his nose with her own before offering the lightest of kisses. “And celebrate.”

Their lopsided grins melded together.


End file.
